If Light was a Father
by tenshi-no-akuma-81
Summary: Title says it all. Non Mary-Sue Second Generation Crack fic. Narrated by OC but is not always OC-centric.Warning: May offend some Christians but remember it's just crack.
1. Athiest

**I know that most people usually hate second generation stories but please give it a try. My first ever Death Note fanfic so please be nice. A few warnings though- if you're Christian, please don't get offended because everything written below is pure crack and I wrote this one Sunday afternoon when I was bored as hell and high from my hunger. **

**The main narrator is Jesus Yagami, Light's son. There will be no serious romance. I have, however decided on a whole crack Romeo and Juliet complex for Near and Mello's kids. :D **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note and what not but I do own Jesus Yagami and any other children of canon characters that might pop up.**

Athiest

It was official. My life stunk like the cabbages lying at the bottom of L's fridge; and trust me that stuff reeks- they're like what? Twenty years old?

If it wasn't bad enough that my father had an unhealthy superiority complex, to the point where he required therapy and had enough issues to make a magazine rack on psychology groan with effort, he just had to throw me into the mess. I had never been on good terms with life from the start. As soon as I popped out of my mother's womb into the midwife's hands, I was named after a biblical idol I had never believed in. That's right- my father who must have been drunk/smoking something a lot stronger than crack/taking mixed drugs or even worse... stealing jam from BB's fridge- named me Jesus. Yup, that's right, the brunette guy with a beard and a consistent fashion of the same white toga and desert sandals.

It was particularly annoying when you couldn't tell the difference between whether someone was crying Christ's name in vain or simply just trying to get your attention.

It wasn't just my first name I had an issue with either, my last name- let's not get started on that.

My father's belief of his existence being so much beyond the remainder of society, seemed to have morphed his brain into a pile of dog shit and decided it was cool to name his very unfortunate son after the actual son of a _real _god. And when I say 'real', I mean, a god that most of society accepts so that a religion is formed because in case you haven't already worked it out- I am not the most religious person in the world.

That brings me back to the point of why I was currently crouched in a dark corner in a very good imitation of L with a butter knife in my right hand and really starting to contemplate on whether or not I should use it. The knife itself wasn't really that sharp to do much worse than give me a really ugly bruise on my wrist that worst but you know what they say... it is the gateway knife after all.

I was grounded.

For a punishment, I had every piece of technology in my room removed including my phone and my laptop. A measly dinner of plain bread and butter was hardly enough to fill my stomach while my parents were off, probably having a fuck-tastic time over at Uncle Matt's house, celebrating the birth of his new daughter. I'd been grounded before and had worse punishments but this was different- let me give a brief description of how exactly I was grounded.

XxX

I spotted my father laughing manically to himself in the living room, both arms raised halfway towards the ceiling as he had his cackling fit. A normal person would have taken one look at my father in all his laughing glory and scurried like a mouse in the other direction. However, I was quite used to it as strangely enough, it was a common practice in the daily life of Light Yagami.

'Dad,' I said tentatively. I knew it wasn't a good idea to interrupt my father while he was off his medication and decided to start off gently. First mistake. If my father is having a cackling fit, he should _never _be interrupted and I should've left it like that. To no one's surprise, he did not hear me.

'Dad,' I said more firmly this time but again he ignored me as he leaned over the dining table, scribbling something into his diary. My father was always keeping a diary and though I've tried to read it on many occasions, I have never been able to get my hands on it. My father knew the best hiding places in the house and though I hate to admit it, is in every factor- a very intelligent person.

I slowly tiptoed towards him, though it was unnecessary because he proved to be too distracted to notice me even if I stripped naked and began screaming 'MY LAST NAME IS BACKWARDS FOR I'M A GAY!' while dancing the cha-cha.

'DAD!' I raised my voice and I saw my father jump, cramming the small black notebook into his jacket pocket as he whirled around.

'Oh, didn't see you there, son,' he said, the smile plastered on his face was noticeably fake.

'What are you doing?' I questioned, my intentions distracted by curiosity.

'I'm writing in my diary like the therapist told me,' he said quickly, 'you know... to confide to it by innermost emotions or something...'

'Right,' I blinked before steering back on to course, 'I have something very important to confess to you and please don't get angry.'

'You got suspended?'

'No.'

'The principal expelled you?'

'No!'

'Oh, I know- you got a girl pregnant.'

'What the-? Hell no!'

'Then what is it?' my father growled impatiently.

I took a deep breath, 'I don't know- on second thoughts you might yell at me-.'

'I promise I won't get angry.'

'Dad,' I began slowly, 'I'm an atheist.'

An awkward silence followed as expected and my father's eyes widened, his pupils contracting as his jaw slowly made its way to the floor, 'What?'

I opened my mouth and hesitantly repeated the three words and watched as a vein began to form on my father's forehead, the look in his eyes mad with murder.

'WHAT DID YOU SAY?'

I took a shaking breath, every cell in my body screaming at me to scram out the doors and over the hills but I stood my ground, 'I said, I am an atheist.'

'MISA!'

'What is it, darling?' my blonde mother said calmly, poking her head in through the door, 'would you like me to help you with your diary entry again?'

'DID YOU HEAR WHAT YOUR SON JUST SAID?'

'No I didn't, what did he say, Light?'

'YOUR SON IS AN ATHIEST!'

My mother's jaw hit the wooden floorboards as she grabbed her forehead and leaned against the wall for support, in the very image of someone who was about to faint.

I bit my lip as my father turned to face me, his eyes glinting red with anger and when he spoke, his voice had returned to a normal level, 'You're grounded.'

It was my turn to go into shock, 'What?'

'You will have your phone, laptop and iPod confiscated for two months, plus you can't go out with your friends, nor can you go to Uncle Matt's party.'

I finally found my voice, 'T-That's so unfair!'

'Unless, of course you give in and finally accept that a God exists and is sitting in front of you right now,' my father said smugly.

Hell, I was a chicken but I was definitely one with pride.

XxX

I chewed miserably on my last bread crust as the butter knife clattered loudly onto the floor. I wish I had my iPod with me so I could play some emo music to help me angst.

Uncle Matt held the best parties in the world mainly because his wife happened to be a brilliant cook. I wished more than anything to have a family like that: a nice mother, a few siblings to play with, (being an only child stinks!) and a Chihuahua named Yoshi. The only person who threw better parties was Uncle Mello and that was only because he was the head of a mafia and included alcohol and sexy hostesses into the party. Instead of a Chihuahua, Mello has this huge, scary dog that was probably part wolf, like the type you see policeman and security guards lead around. Of course, Dad would never allow me to go anywhere near his house so I often snuck out. Last year, he sent me a real gun for my birthday and it was loaded and everything until Dad confiscated it. He says he threw it out but sometimes when he thinks I'm asleep, he goes downstairs to the games room and shoots bullets at a picture of L he sticks in the middle of the target board. I found out when I discovered his holed up picture lying in the sanitary pad disposal bin that my mother had installed into the bathroom, (don't ask me why I was looking through it).

Life was so unfair. It was like a complex game where cheating was impossible. Sometimes I wonder if death was easier...

I smacked my head to clear my suicidal thoughts, _Calm down, Jesus Yagami_- _are you going to give in now when things get hard? You've got to fight! Fight back against life!_

'Yes, I will never give in,' I said out loud and formulated a plan in my head. I turned on my table light and searched around for several minutes for a bobby pin before remembering that I was a guy, (a straight one at that, before you start questioning my sexuality), and that my mother was the only person in the family that had owned hair accessories. No paper clip, I even forgot my pencil case at school so my scissors were not an option.

That was when the light bulb I inherited from my father kicked in over my mother's idiot genes and lit up. I still had my membership card from Abercrombie and Fitch! It was an old card my father passed onto me from his old days, keeping it active by constantly going on shopping sprees with my mother every month. It now lay at the bottom of my wallet, unused for so long it was probably expired by now but I had never been more grateful to see it as I pulled out the crummy card from under my roll of dollar notes.

I jammed the edge of the card into the lock and after a few unsuccessful tries, the door finally swung open with a loud creak as I breathed in the smelly perfume my mother often wore mixed in with my father's cologne. It made me double over and choke, having not been exposed to the regular smell of the house for quite a while.

_Oh yeah, freedom!_

**Oh my God, I can't believe what I just wrote. It probably sucks but whatever, I was bored as hell. I don't expect any reviews for this sorry excuse for a piece of literature but reviews would be nice and appreciated. I probably won't even continue this.**


	2. Anger

**Wow, some people actually want to read this piece of shit. Anyway, chapter two... can't say I'll continue a lot further than five chapters though. WARNING: This chapter has a bit of racism coming from Mello. You have been warned.**

Anger

Mello was the definition of a dream father for any teenage male between the ages of fourteen and twenty two. He wore leather, rode on motorcycles, ran the mafia and lived in an expensive _triple_story mansion with hundreds of little servants practically tripping over themselves to serve him. Yes, definitely the Dad that I would want.

Well, Mello did have this one kid who's in my class and unfortunately she's a _girl_. A girl, with the dad that a million teenage boys would die to have... strange the life that karma bestows you with. And here I was, with a father who was currently on lithium for his bipolar mood disorder and a freakish mother who longed for nothing but a daughter. I remember how my dear, crazy mother used to dress me up in frilly pink dresses and white petticoats up until the age of six when I finally started primary school and saw that no other boy was wearing what I was wearing. But she still kept the pictures in this album that she secretly croons to in the middle of the night when she thinks I'm asleep. I discovered this when I had a late night trip to the bathroom, walked past her bedroom and saw something more scarring than anything I'd ever encountered on Omegle

Anyway, back to the subject of Mello's kid. Let's call her Mel. Mel would fit so much better in my insane family and I would so fit better in Mello's family. I mean, Mel even looks like my Mom, to the point where I began to wonder if she'd had a secret love affair with Mello. Unfortunately when I brought up the question, she threw such a huge fit about how Light, (my dad) was the only man she would ever love and then beat me up Bruce Lee style and kicked me to the curb until three o'clock in the morning.

On the outside, Mel looks like a delicate porcelain doll with the personality of an angel. Blonde hair, crystal clear blue eyes and always wore conservative clothing in front of her father. But really she was probably the most fucked up, un-innocent bitch I'd ever met. Mel is probably the only person out there with a worse case of bipolar than my dad. As soon as the lights were out, she would rip of that frilly petticoat-like dress she would usually wear and exchange it for a leather leotard like outfit and thigh high boots.

I thought Mello was more intelligent than that but he remains blissfully unaware of his daughter's wild late night lifestyle and if he did, he just didn't care. In fact, I think he doesn't care because I've witnessed this scene before many times.

Mello was always fond of me so he invited me over to his huge estate to help him polish his motorbike. I guess when you have a daughter, you don't really get to do these kind of things with them. Anyway, right when Mello and I were inspecting the perfectly unruffled tyres, Mel walked in from her first day of high school.

'I'm back, Dad.'

'Hello, sweetie. How was your first day of high school?' Mello asked.

'It was alright, Dad. We had a pop quiz and I got involved in a bank robbing.'

'What was the name of Near's brat again?'

'Erm, Nathan, Daddy.'

'Did you beat Nathan in the pop quiz?' Mello asked.

'Yes, Daddy... by two marks.'

'OK, you may go.'

And he didn't even care that his thirteen year old daughter just robbed a bank! I wish my parents were that lenient. And then there was that time in Grade 8 where she walked in on Mello having a meeting with his mafia buddies.

'Hi daddy, I have something to confess.'

Mello looked up from the meeting table, his usually hard face immediately morphing into an overly cheerful, out of character smile. 'Yes, what is it, sweetie?'

'I had sex with a nineteen year old man.'

'Really? Was he black?'

'No.'

'Asian?'

'No.'

'Indian?'

'No.'

'OK,' Mello had said and turned back to the meeting as if his fourteen year old hadn't just confessed that she just performed illegal sex with an adult, despite being a minor. If I had said that to my parents, my Dad would've gone so crazy, he would've given me the back hand and then locked me up in my room with nothing but a single one of my Mom's 99 percent fat free wheat biscuits and a glass of tap water for rations. After a week, Mom would drag my rotting, skeletal form out and beat me over the head with a huge wok until I was half dead and sell me to an orphanage.

But there were some things that did make Mello go crazy and unfortunately, I had been there to witness it firsthand. You see, Mello was generally reasonably good natured around me, though I knew deep down he really was a sadistic, badass mafia boss who knew over a hundred ways to kill a grown man with his bare hands. I was over at his house because I'd asked him to give me some tips for my upcoming Maths project. Usually a child would go for their parents for advice but in my case my Mom had thought I was sneezing when I asked her about Calculus.

'Mom,' I had asked while she prepared dinner, 'can you help me with my Maths homework?'

'Sure, darling,' she said, wiping her hands on a tea towel, staining the fabric with fish guts, 'what are you having trouble with?'

'I don't really understand my Calculus,' I said.

'Bless you,' Mom said.

'That wasn't a sneeze,' I sighed.

'Oh. Why don't you ask your father?'

So I trampled upstairs to my parents' bedroom. As soon as I reached the landing, I could hear my father's muffled cackle issue from somewhere inside.

'Soon, Ryuk! Soon I will create a perfect world where I can become a God! All I have to do is discover L's real name... no, I can't just do that! I'll die!'

Silence and then... 'What? What do you mean I'm delusional? Ah... and a coward? Now that's going too far! Come back here you little-.'

OK, definitely not a good time to try and talk to my father. If his bipolar is playing up so badly that he's _talking_to himself again then I really needed to remind him to take his medication daily.

Yeah, so that's how I ended up at Uncle Mello's place.

So back to the topic of Mel, she walked in on the two of us after her ballet class or whatever. Mello looked up briefly from my book and gave a very uncharacteristic sappy smile, 'Welcome home, sweetie.'

'Dad, I have a confession to make,' she said nervously. I rolled my eyes. It seemed that every time I saw her, she had something to confess. What was it this time? She ran over an old lady down at the zebra crossings? She assassinated the US president? She was actually dealing drugs in Argentina?

'What is it?' Mello asked, writing some equations down on my paper.

'I'm going out with someone.'

'Remember what I said, sweetie,' Mello said dismissively, 'as long as he's not black, asian or Indian, I'm fine with whatever lucky man you choose.'

'That's not it,' Mel said nervously, twiddling her fingers and staring at the floor. Wow, she actually looked nervous? Who would've thought! Mel was never nervous about telling her father anything! I bet she could even tell Mello that she massacred an entire town with nothing but a spork and a toothpick with a straight face! She opened her mouth to speak and I half expected her to shout out, 'Dad, I'm gay!' or something like that. Though I doubted that Mello would've care how straight his child was.

'Don't you want to know who he is?' she said.

'Not particularly,' Mello shrugged, 'I don't care if he's a street punk druggie with a thousand tattoos and piercings and works as a double agent for the Soviet Union as long as you love him.'

Well, I guess _that_kind of guy would be hard to top on the evil scale. Mel must've thought that too because she sighed in relief, 'I thought you might want to know, I'm going out with Nathan.'

'WHAT?'

Mello pressed so hard on the pen that the nib snapped right off and splattered ink all over my maths book. I winced as his mouth had been right next to my year when he'd exploded. Mello's entire body was quivering with no doubt, rage. He resembled a rabid dog that had just been denied his favourite food which was in this case... chocolate. 'N-NATHAN?' he spluttered, 'AS IN NEAR'S BRAT?'

'Y-Yes,' Mel mumbled, looking frightened. I didn't blame her for being terrified. Even _I_was terrified and Mello wasn't even directing his anger at me. The three headed dog, Cerberus would've taken one look at Mello in his current state and fled through the gates of tell, yipping with its tail clipped between its legs.

'YOU LITTLE BITCH!' Mello shouted, his leather studded hand curled up so tightly that I thought he could shatter a wall of diamond with just one punch, 'HOW CAN YOU EVEN BARE TO STAND UNDER THIS ROOF WHILE YOU BREATHE THOSE WORDS WITH SUCH INDIFFERENCE? YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHITTY ROTTEN PIZZA WITH BRAINS THE SIZE OF A STEGOSAURUS, YOU SLUTTY, SCANTY LITTLE WHOREBAG-.'

'Err- I'm going now,' I said quickly, stuffing my ruined Maths book into my bag, 'Thanks for-um-helping me out and stuff! See you, bye!' And with that I darted out of the room faster than a cheetah dancing on a field of hot coals.

'YOU ARE SO GROUNDED THAT I'M GOING TO GROUND YOU INTO COCOA DUST-!' I heard Mello yell from somewhere behind me.

**I wanted to do this whole Romeo and Juliet complex between Near and Mello's kids. It's lame but whatever. Suggestions will be great since I've only got enough ideas to keep me going for another one or two chapters.**


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